good boys can wait their turn
have me when I'm dead and ready
right now im physcotic
only care about narcotics
this raging traffic inside my head
symphonic, I'm overdosing
always going
catatonic
because I'm a doll hooked on adderall
you wish I'd fall
I know you wanna see me off the ledge
but I'm 6 feet tall
in my fur coat stillettos golden halls
turning gray alleys and we can't breathe
we can't breathe and death's a tease
******* thief
if you ask me
and what I wouldn't give
for a bad boy to just be good
treat her right, one night
to hold a hand with no claws
kiss a face, no bite involved
all these boys from outta town
already dead, and out of ground
giving me heartache, fade in, blackout
it's too **** late
just wanna sleep
take another pill, live-in hell
it's all you ever wanted
la princessa fell

Here late into September
I can sit with the windows
of the stone room swung open
to the plum branches still green
above the two fields bare now
fresh-plowed under the walnuts
and watch the screen of ash trees
and the river below them

and listen to the hawk's cry
over the misted valley
beyond the shoulder of woods
and to lambs in a pasture
on the ***** and a chaffinch
somewhere down in the sloe hedge
and silence from the village
behind me and from the years

and can hear the light rain come
the note of each drop playing
into the stone by the sill
I come slowly to hearing
then all at once too quickly
for surprise I hear something
and think I remember it
and will know it afterward

in a few days I will be
a year older one more year
a year farther and nearer
and with no sound from there on
mute as the native country
that was never there again
now I hear walnuts falling
in the country I came to

you had birds in your mouth and sunlight dripping from your eyelashes.
i promised i wouldn't speak if you wouldn't change faces twice an hour.
we made conversation under a tree and sleep-walked through your kitchen.
i couldn't stare for your poetry disguised as fingers, always moved your hands.

i opened your window and slid to the street, took a walk with the recycling.
my hands looked tired the next morning, and you wouldn't take no.
when the lights fell asleep, we ran for the boats and slipped into the water.
the moon smiled and pulled us apart, i never matched your shoes again.

“I don’t believe in love”
She says

As I speed through a yellow light
She presses her first ******* to her lips
Then touches the roof of my car with them
She shuts her eyes

I don’t ask her why
I just trust her intentions

In the same way I don’t believe in anything myself
Save for the passion that takes hold of others
When they believe

I like what that looks like

The word believe when broken down
First means to live
“Be” means to exist as
Or to live

And “Lieve” means love
And I think about the bravery it takes
To believe in anything
And the bravery it takes to love
And how that same bravery is made by love

How many stupid things have we done
Just by loving someone?

How many arguments are there against a belief
In anything?

I don’t believe in god
But I believe in you

When I watch you do things
Like superstitious knee **** reactions
To keep the light yellow a little longer

So on the ride home I do the same thing
As the sun bends it’s yellow into red over a horizon
That is kissing our sunburnt necks

Because I want this car ride to last a little longer

Even though we say nothing
And you don’t ask why for the last fifteen minutes
I’ve had my fingers pressed to the roof of my car
A satisfied smile pressing back my cheeks

You just trust that I feel this means something

So maybe you don’t believe in love
But you believe in something
And by doing so
You are partaking in love on some weird level
Subconsciously
Like breathing

But I want this car ride to last a little longer
So I say nothing
Let the wind **** the silence like white-noise
It’s as close to prayer
As either of us
Will ever get

Where did the circus go?

Not like the Del Mar fair
Or the Barnum and Bailey skinny cow version

I want someplace nasty
A bit sticky
Someplace that picks up and leaves
before you have time to go get your watch back

All that’s left is a lot
Full of trash and ride screws
Because the rush to leave was more important
than safety

It’s a place most days now
I wish I could run away to

Slap on fake **** and be the bearded lady
Or warts and green paint and be frog man

Be something along the lines of
Homemade make believe

Be happy believing that
This other place doesn’t have things
Like rent
And car payments
And work that ***** you harder than your own girlfriend will

And don’t tell me cirque de solei is hiring
That’s not a circus
That’s people in costumes dancing and flying around on stages
They had to go to school to do that

You don’t need school to join the circus

You just need the desire to leave
Before anyone notices you’re gone
Maybe leave behind a sticky mess
And take with you something valuable
Like a watch
Or money from the purse on the counter
Or someone’s heart

Maybe I could be tattoo man
Or the ***** Mouthed Poet
And freestyle psalms that ache behind a glass window
That you have to pay a quarter to see through
And another quarter to listen
Or I could be a wax statue of Jesus
The one that if you stare at long enough
You see him breathing

Enough to restore faith in the make believe
That keeps us going

Let me be your side show
Let me be your fortune teller
Let me be the dark room in that back
Only the men are allowed into

Women and children this way

Let me be the ***** talk of town
And leave before the lynching

Let me leave in the night like a piper
With the promise
That I will give you the life you’ve always wanted
If you leave behind all you’ve ever been

Remember him?
He joined the circus?

Where’d the circus go?

They grew up holding hands playing on the sand,
But what the grownups warned they couldn’t understand.
One day you will have to part when grown up by the sea,
Nothing lasts forever, something’s are not meant to be.
Never kiss on the lips while holding hands so tight,
Maybe on the cheek, but never late at night.
Then came the day while playing round the pools,
She looked at him and whispered, let us forget about the rules.
As their lips touched she remembered what her father used to say,
“Never kiss an urchin my little mermaid, futures will depend”,
“You are destined for the ocean not here with your friend”.
“Just one kiss and you will lose your crown and thrown”,
“While standing close together you'll slowly turn to stone”.

Breathing is normal,
appetite is aberrant.
All sounds are ambient.

....I
am
still
here.

Lost in time;
unaware of reality,
but aware of my sanity.

...Am
I
still
here?

Senses have risen
and failed
My mind is jailed.

...Will
I
stay
here?

Jailed but liberated,
I am one with everything.
My heart begins to sing.

...I
am
not
here.

I am your denial, your Lent fast
The mania in your DNA,
the way the helix twists around itself.

I am the finger-shaped bruises on the inside
soft of the thigh, the color of ripe plums
that you can’t stop pressing

because it hurts just right—
like us, the way we crack our knuckles.

The scoliosis question mark,
bent spoon of your spine like
Scandinavian silverware, its unfunctioning beauty.  

The snow of a thousand dandelions gone to seed.

The sugar sacks of fat around my body
that I love to touch and hate to see.

I am the thrift store of your desires,
a polyester pantsuit resold.
The starch of morning arthritis.

The dark under your nails
that isn’t really dirt.

The yellow smoke smell in a jacket.
A mango eaten off the pit,
stringy mango veins that stay in your teeth.

A washing machine that doesn’t drain.

A man cursing in his native language,
foreign words that don’t translate.